As the self appointed
chronicler of the life and adventures of Sir Draknahr Otherian, it
seems appropriate that I should first begin by telling the reader
who I am, and how we first met. While many have known Sir Draknahr
Otherian at various points in his life, I have been a frequent, and
for years at a time, a constant companion. My name is Alanathrouck
Manzerses Ikimal il Lapendeses, and I originally hail from the city
of Salran, in the vast nation of Bheron on the southern continent.
For simplicity, and considering the vast majority of the readers of
these stories will likely come from the northern lands, I will use
only the names for places common to my readers. My people do not call
my home city Salran, or my nation Bheron, and in fact most do not
recognize a unified nation at all.
Personal naming conventions
among many tribes of my people are highly complex, with full names
usually incorporating identifiers denoting tribe, region, and
paternal lineage. While tremendous deliberation goes into each name
by the parents, and often by elders in the tribe when the child comes
from an important family, we soon forget all about our full names
except under highly formal circumstance and adopt a one or two
syllable name that becomes our common name. Thus, since the time of
my childhood, and throughout my travels with Draknahr, I have been
known simply as Alan.
I spent my childhood in
Salran. My father was an influential leader in the shipwrights guild,
while my mother spent her efforts in educating her children using
northern texts that my father obtained for her from his contacts with
the ship captains. Because of this, I already had a good foundation
for my education when, at the age of eight, I began to display the
unmistakable signs of attunement with the elements of nature. It was
with both sadness and excitement that I accepted invitation into the
Sorcerers Guild that year, and my education began in earnest.
When I was fourteen, my
skills and my knowledge surpassed what the Sorcerers Guild in Salran
could offer, and I set off by ship, for the first time in my life. I
went to the island of Arisus, to the tiered city of Wehlor, where the
Grand Sorceress rules as head of state, as well as head of the
Sorcerers Guild from the delicate Palace of Sorcery, which sits atop
the highest tier of the city. I continued my education there until I
was twenty, and I also had my first encounters with the Oracle of
Aris, who would play a major role in my later life.
When I was twenty years
old, the final traces of youthful brashness still coursing through my
veins, and a burning desire for adventure blazing in my heart, I was
sent from Arisus, no longer a student, but as a full member of the
Sorcerers Guild. The Grand Sorceress herself sent me to what was
regarded as the most dynamic and vast city in the whole of the known
world, Del Caet. It was there, before I had even entered the
guild-house that I first met a sixteen year old named Draknahr
Otherian.
The journey from Arisus
felt long, two weeks by ship to the large port town of Merchal on the
west coast of Caeleon, and then several days over land along the
cobblestone road running from Merchal to Del Caet itself. It would
have taken longer, but the Grand Sorceress had been kind, and given
me a purse with adequate coin to see to my expenses and to hire a
coach to deliver me to the city gate. While I could have certainly
walked, my burdens consisting of little more than my walking stick
and a rucksack containing a fresh robe, various personal hygiene
items, and several books and scrolls, my excitement at seeing Del
Caet would not permit me any delay, even in the name of thrift.
From miles away, I knew
that Del Caet would be a spectacular city. The road was littered with
small towns and villages, growing more dense as we got closer to the
city, with vast tracts of farmland and flocks of grazing animals
stretching to the close horizon. Caeleon in its central area is a
terrain of rolling hills, so seeing farther than a dozen or so miles
was not usually possible. The sprawling city of Del Caet however sits
in a vast river valley, with the Therian River flowing through the
central part of the city, its headwaters in the mountains north of
Ghieral, and finding the sea at the desert city of Rac Therus, far to
the south. Cresting the final line of hills, I beheld the city that
would become my home for most of my life. I had expected to be amazed
at the scale, and the grandeur, but I knew as I looked out over the
faintly pink stone buildings and towers of the central city that I
would be comfortable and happy here. A city of knowledge and wisdom,
of strength and of peace, and it was just what I expected.
My confidence, I have to
admit, was almost immediately shaken. After exiting the coach and
paying the driver, I made my way to the gate into the city. There was
an enormous gate through which caravans of merchant wagons could
pass, their cargo inspected and taxes paid. There was a small line of
wagons waiting to enter the city at the midday hour. There was also,
next to the commercial gate, a smaller checkpoint that allowed
travelers to enter and exit the city on foot. Del Caet is a
cosmopolitan city, so despite my blatant foreignness (at this time, I
was utterly bald, still spoke with a fairly thick Bheronian accent,
and my skin is quite dark, even for one of my nation), they accepted
me in without delay when I presented my papers from the Grand
Sorceress, showing that I was a member of the Del Caet guild, and
therefore making me an official resident of the city.
I had walked
perhaps twenty yards into Del Caet, taking in the sights and sounds
of the merchants area where I had entered the city, when without
warning, I was roughly grabbed and dragged into an dim alleyway.
Hands were on me, binding my hands and clasped over my mouth. Despite
my training, at this point in my career, I was not yet capable of
performing any elemental feats without the use of a gesture from my
hands. Such is the case with most Sorcerers, and my assailants
clearly knew this. I suspect they targeted me because I was dressed
in full guild robes, green in color for earth, from which all life
springs and inevitably returns, but patterned with threads indicating
the Sorcerer's proficiencies and his status in the guild. Mine showed
proficiencies in fire, water and air, with little in shadow and
earth. It also showed clearly to the initiated, as well as anyone
with an interest that I was barely a full sorcerer at all. I also
must have looked frightfully young and awestruck, and I was indeed an
easy and ill prepared target.
“Get his purse and bag,”
a rough voice whispered from behind me.
“Got it,” a second
voice replied as I felt a hand grope under my robe and rip my purse
free.
I was more shocked than
frightened at this point, and my mind had not even begun processing a
way to extricate me from this situation. Amazingly and fortuitously,
I didn't even need to act on my own behalf, as at this moment I first
met Draknahr Otherian.
“That isn't yours,” a
young, almost boy's voice accused from the opening of the alleyway
just as my attackers pulled the rucksack from my back and began
making their escape.
“It is now, boy,” one
of the ruffians said dismissively as I looked up and finally saw the
two grimy and desperate looking men who had assaulted me. They each
wore ill fitting and well worn rough tunics and weather rotted
leather sandals, one held my purse, the other my rucksack. Facing
them, and blocking their easy escape was a boy of sixteen with a
blaze of red hair and wispy tufts of a beard. He wore a white, short
robe, new looking sandals, and a pair of polished bronze bracers on
his wrists. While he was more than a head shorter than either of the
two men he was facing, he looked well muscled and brawny, and he wore
a confident grin.
“I think you would be
wise to return this man's property and give him a sincere apology,”
the young man told them. I noticed then that he wore a simple dagger
at his waist, but he was making no move to draw it.
The two thieves obviously
did not take the boy seriously. They walked right at him, with the
clear intent of pushing past him and then melting into the crowd in
the merchants district. Draknahr was not to be moved aside however,
and he pushed both men back into the alley, one with each meaty hand.
This of course angered the two men, and the one with my purse in his
hand rushed at Draknahr with a scowl on his face and a fist clenched.
When he punched at Draknahr's face, the young man didn't even really
bother dodging, but shrugged his left shoulder up and accepted the
blow with the most muscular part of his arm. Before the foolish thief
could even take a step away, Draknahr struck back. To my untrained
eye, the punch didn't look very hard. Draknahr's knuckles made
contact with the man's chin with a solid thud. His legs suddenly
seemed to stop doing their job and went momentarily rubbery before
failing altogether. He dropped in a heap at Draknahr's feet with his
eyes rolled back into his head, quite unconscious. At this point,
Draknahr just shook his head with a touch of mock disappointment and
looked to the other thug with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I hope you listen better
than your friend. Return the Sorcerer's property and apologize like a
proper gentleman,” Draknahr suggested, and something in his calm
and quiet tone told the man that he would not be treated so kindly as
his friend.
“I'm sorry young master,
please don't kill me,” the thief said with great pleading and fear, a sudden awareness coming over him that he was entirely out of his depth. He
held out my rucksack with quivering hands and I took it back, my own
hands quivering more than I would have liked.
Draknahr picked up my purse
and then waved for me to follow him out of the alley. He handed it
back to me with a friendly smile.
“You have my thanks,” I
said to him, still a bit stunned at my welcome to Del Caet. I opened
my purse and started to dig out a coin for the young man when he
stopped me with a laugh.
Draknahr introduced himself
and informed me that he had actually been tasked with meeting me at
the gate and insuring my safe passage to the Sorcerers guild-house. There had been several incidents recently where important
travelers had been robbed, so the Order of Caelish Knights had been
asked by the Sorcerers Guild, as well as a few other organizations
in Del Caet, to escort their people from time to time. The Order
thought so little of the thugs in the merchant area that this task
fell to young men like Draknahr. Though a novice initiate, Draknahr
had been one of the select few his age to even be accepted for
training into the elite Order, and the training he had already
received made him a daunting opponent for a common street tough.
“I thank you again,
Draknahr Otherian. I owe you a debt,” I remarked to him when we
were finally standing in from of the door to the Sorcerers Guild.
While I did feel a debt to the young man, and I was tremendously
grateful that he had saved me the embarrassment of arriving at my
Guild, freshly robbed without even trying to defend myself, I was
quite surprised at the speed the he came up with a method of payment.
“I actually requested the
assignment of meeting you,” he told me with great seriousness. “I
had hoped to gain your assistance in small task. If you feel that you
owe me a debt, can I count on your help?”
“Of course, I am at your
service,” I replied, knowing from his tone that this 'simple task'
in all likelihood was anything but. I could also hear the distinct
call to adventure in his words, and I found them irresistible.
“That is excellent news,”
he replied with a measure of relief. “In my order of knights,
novices are only allowed to train with wooden weapons. To advance to
sword apprentice, I needed to reach my sixteenth year, and I need to
acquire a sword of my own.”
“That sounds simple
enough,” I replied lightly, but Draknahr just frowned.
“Yes, but there are
rules. I cannot steal a sword, and I cannot purchase a sword. One
must be awarded to me, or I must win one. Many novices approach a
wealthy senator and pledge service in exchange for their sword, but I
do not wish to be indebted. The Order also allows us to win a sword
through tests of courage and strength, but the swords they award directly are
low quality, and quality matters a great deal. The organized tests are also
considered the easy way, well structured and designed for the
unambitious. I require a sword of distinction; a blade that I will
still be proud to wield when I am a master,” Draknahr replied. I
was beginning to notice that even at sixteen, Draknahr always spoke
with a formality that was unusual except among the learned elite, and
more in the manner that I myself spoke, as one who learned the northern
tongue from texts, rather than in the streets.
“I assume that you have
another idea?” I asked.
“I hope so,” Draknahr
replied with a smirk. “On our quest, we are allowed a single
companion to assist us. Most choose a senior knight to help recover a
won sword, or a senator to award a sword, but I am choosing you. If
you are still willing, I'd ask that you please examine your guild
archives for reference to a 'shadow scimitar', most recently wielded
by dishonored knight of my order named Atrius Vellarius.”
I nodded my agreement, and felt an excitement and anticipation that I had never previously known.
Thus began my lifelong
association with Sir Draknahr Otherian.
